The Country Duet(64)

“What do you want to get done?” I ask him, glancing over at him slowly creeping along in his walker.

“Thought about moving some parts.”

Perfect.

“Okay, let me help you to your tractor.”

I wait for him to step back from his walker, then scoop him up in my arms. Dave didn’t weigh much before, and now is even lighter. This hospital visit has really set him back.

I set him down and watch him study the tractor.

“What the hell is this?” He points to the rusty seat on the side of the tractor.

“Your bitch seat.”

Dave nods his head, then begins creeping up the steps. I step back not helping him, even though it’s killing me not to hoist him up. But this right here is what Dave needs; passion and love for his farm to pump life through his dying body. It may be the one thing that keeps him up and going.

We work for hours. It’s a lot faster than when he drives, but in good old Dave fashion, he stops us every couple hundred yards. I wouldn’t expect any more.

“Hey, Dave.” I hold my phone out to take a selfie. “Smile.”

This right here is too priceless not to snap a picture of it. Dave grins from ear to ear, and then I lean in closer before I snap a picture.

“Does my phone do that?”

“No.”

He nods, and we continue until the sun kisses the horizon. Dave begins nodding off in his seat, and I know it’s time to go inside.

“My goddamn feet hurt,” he says when he flops down in his recliner.

“Is it any better when you’re off them?” I ask him.

“No, the fuckers just hurt.”

I hand him his bucket of pills. “Here, take your meds, and I’ll heat up dinner for you.”

I don’t give him time to argue because I know he’ll want a damn shake instead, but I want him to have a nice, hot meal. I plate up meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and make him a green salad. He’s nodding off in the chair by the time I get back. The nurses at the hospital told me when I picked him up that he’d only ate a few packages of black licorice today.

“Dave.” I nudge his shoulder to wake him up. “Here’s your food.”

I clean off a spot on the tray in front of him. He shocks me when he doesn’t argue and instead digs into his food. I’m worried about the pain he’s in. The man already takes a ton of hydrocodone for his arthritis, among another large pile for all of his other ailments.

“My sister-in-law came and visited me today,” he says around a bite of mashed potatoes.

I sit back in shock. “You have a sister-in-law?”

“Yeah,” Is his simple reply.

“Thought you didn’t have any family.” I wipe away the confusion on my face.

“She’s not family. Married my brother. Brother’s been dead a long time. I’m not close with her.”

“Shocker. I mean you’re such a people person.”

“Don’t be a dickhead, Hunter. She’s over eighty and takes care of her only child who is an adult and is special needs. We’ve never seen eye-to-eye on much.”

I relax back on the couch, absorbing the information.

“The first time I went to the hospital, I had her come take all my valuables out of the house.”

“Valuables?” I ask.

“My jewelry.”

“Are you high right now?” I ask him with all seriousness.

“No, I collect jewelry. One time I special ordered a ring with two cobra heads coming out of it with real ruby eyes. Fifteen thousand dollar ring.”

“Dave, you’re just full of damn surprises.”

“That bitch lost a five thousand dollar check of mine. Not sure I can really trust her anymore.”

“Your sister-in-law?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she stole it or honestly lost it?”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? Five thousand dollars gone, and ever since I’ve been on edge with her.”

“When did this happen?”

“A few years ago,” he responds, finishing his plate.

I’m damn happy I put the food in front of him, since he was hungry and opened up to me about his sister-in-law. It makes me wonder what other bombshells the man is hiding. On second thought, maybe I don’t want to know.

“How about a shower and shave, then I’ll make sure you get in bed?”

He nods.

I know they gave him sponge baths in the hospital, but the man needs a full-out shower and trim. His scruff now covers his entire face. Dave winces when he stands and bitches about the pain in his feet, but he’s a trooper, walking into the bathroom with the help of his walker.

We go through our routine of shower and shaving. Dave studies himself in the mirror like he always does after having a clean shaved face. It does wonders for his spirits.

“I’m going to step out for a bit. You need to try and go to the bathroom.”

I cringe once the words leave my lips. I never want to treat him like a toddler or small child, but I also don’t enjoy cleaning up his shit either.

Once he’s in bed, I give him a stern look.

“Now, before you think it’s morning and give me a call on your cell phone, look at your alarm clock.”

He shakes his head. “Not my fault I lost all track of time.”